Wooing Nature
by rhymeswithmonth
Summary: Raito passes away leaving L behind with an infant daughter that he can't stand to look at. Six years later the child travels to England to stay with the father she barley knows. L and his daughter both face the task of forming a bond with a stranger.
1. Chapter 1

_Italics _are flashback

_"Healing," Papa would tell me, "is not a science, but the intuitive art of wooing nature."  
_- W.H. Auden

London Heathrow Airport, being the world's fifth busiest airport, would have been crowded on the best of days. So, the fact that it was a week before Christmas, and the busiest time of year to travel, navigating the international terminal was a head-ache inducing battle. The people that filled the building ranged from black-suited businessmen to frazzled mothers dragging their various sized broods by the hand, all in some sort of _desperate _rush to get to some place or another.

It felt almost surreal actually, being the only still figure in the swarming sea of holiday goers. It was like being in a bubble where time stood still, but watching the world outside keep on going, at an unusually rapid pace.

That is, if it weren't for the dirty looks and muttered comments directed his way, because goodness knows that the simple act of walking around a man who measured roughly a foot and a half wide took _so_ much time out of their day.

And once again L was reminded exactly why he never went outside unless it was absolutely necessary.

Turning his gaze back to the clock that hung at eye-level on the opposite wall, L let out a weary sigh. He longed desperately to be back at Wammy House with only his computer as company. Oh, and a nice big slice of cheesecake. Strawberry, with white chocolate whipped-topping, and some of that new tea that Roger had brought back for him from India.

That sounded a hundred, no, a thousand times better than standing here, counting down the seconds until he would have to stroll down the stairs to the arrivals lounge where the object of many sleepless nights would be waiting for him.

1:59.58…1:59.59…2:00.

Well, there was no avoiding it now. The plane was due in at 2:00pm and L absolutely hated tardiness; he believed it said all sorts of negative things about a person's nature. For one it said they were disrespectful. And lazy, and forgetful and…

And now he was stalling. Fisting his hands deeper into his pockets, L made his way toward the staircase that lay directly before him. Each step felt like a hundred meter drop, each holding the same heart-clenching sensation. He knew that it was ridiculous. He had faced countless things that where incomparably frightening. Ruthless mass murderers, rapists, conmen, mob-bosses, all professional criminals, and he had defeated each without feeling a moments worth of fear.

After all, logically, he had nothing to fear from the slight figure that had just come into view in front of him. Nothing to fear from a six year-old girl, and especially nothing to fear from his flesh and blood, his own daughter.

His daughter. The thought was still foreign to him, even after six years, two months and fifteen days.

And 5 and a half hours.

But his daughter she was, although the only visible evidence of the fact was the unruly black hair that she had inherited from him. Hair that appeared to have been tamed into braided pigtails. There were pale blue ribbons wound into the ebony locks that L assumed had been done by her aunt.

One of the braids had come undone at the end sometime during the twelve-hour flight, giving her a rather lopsided look. She stood beside the attendant who had accompanied her, a kind-looking middle-aged woman who appeared to be scanning the crowd for L. He sighed again. No sense in wasting anymore time.

He approached the pair in his usual shuffling manner, not thinking until too late to stand up straight and actually tryto look like someone trustworthy enough to had off a child to. No matter, the woman didn't look that bright, and he would have no problem convincing her that he was indeed this girl's father.

Father, him, another foreign idea.

He needn't have worried apparently, because the moment the child saw him, her entire face lit up with a radiant sort of joy that L was completely unaccustomed to. It seemed that even though she had not seen him for almost two years, and he had left her no photos, she was able to recognize him.

But L kept his eyes averted, instead he focused on the woman behind her, who was still in the process of turning her expression of shock at his appearance to an uneasy smile.

Eventually she spoke. "Hello, you must be Mr-"

"Holmes, yes" L interrupted rather rudely.

She seemed slightly taken aback at his abrupt tone, but covered it surprisingly well. "All right, as soon as the luggage comes about I'll leave you-"

"That will not be necessary, you may leave now"

"Oh it's alright, I don't min-"

"It is unnecessary"

"bu-"

L fixed his unblinking eyes firmly on the now flustered woman " A cheque for the agreed upon amount will arrive at your residence within three days, your assistance is no longer required, goodbye" leaving no room for further argument, he turned toward the carousal and proceeded to ignore the two females as the older bid farewell to the younger, and with one more hesitant glance back at L the woman disappeared into the milling crowd.

He could feel the girl's gaze on him. A sort of warn electricity spread along his left jaw, and he knew that if he looked down at her, he would find her wide brown eyes staring up full of expectation. That was what had truly inspired the nervous clenching of his heart for the past month and a half. The idea that he would have to keep this tiny thing alive and entertained for the next week was absolutely ludicrous. This was a task that could not be solved by his ridiculous IQ alone, there were no classes or manuals for being a father.

But first things first. Taking a deep breath, and utilizing the ancient Chinese Ki-Kou breathing technique for a minute, L addressed the empty air in front of him. "Tell me what your bag looks like".

The reply was so enthusiastic, that L was momentarily stunned into silence. "It'sreallyreallypretty!GrammyandGrandpaboughtitforme!-"

Regaining control of his vocal cords, L halted the girl's sudden case of verbal diarrhea 6 year-old Japanese fangirl style. "Yes I see it now".

Hefting the sickeningly cute rolling luggage off the trolley, L turned to go, not bothering to check if the child followed.

She did, of course. She trudged on beside him and spoke up, thankfully slower this time. "I can pull it myself you know," she said, a ring of childish pride at being able to perform such a mundane act coloured her words "I did it before".

She obviously expected him to hand her the luggage, and perhaps praise her when she was indeed able to pull it herself. "No" he replied "I will carry it".

He was replied when she didn't insist, and glanced over his shoulder at her. Her head hung in mild dejection, and her dark bangs fell into her eyes, shielding them from his view. Small shoulders hunched in an uncanny imitation of her father's trademark slouch, she scuffed her feet and fell behind him longer strides.

L turned back in annoyance. Drawing level with her, he reached out and grasped her sweater between his thumb and forefinger. Satisfied that this way he avoided direct contact with her skin, he dragged the pouting girl toward the exit.

It was snowing outside, fat white flakes drifted lazily in the breeze, adding to the already large snow banks that bordered the parking lot. Now that they were clear of the crowd, L released his hold on the girl only to find a minute later that she had halted completely. Annoyed, he strode back, wondering exasperatedly if this was going to be how it was for the next week, but he stopped in his tracks.

Her head was tilted up to the clouded sky. Mouth open, her tongue glinted pink as it darted out to catch a passing flake.

And her eyes.

They glowed at him across the pavement, a warm, painfully familiar brown.

_She spun in a circle, long brown hair falling over her shoulders like a waterfall of silk. The snow that landed on her head and shoulders steadily piling up. She gazed around at the field of white with an uncharacteristic expression of awe on her beautiful features. _

_It didn't snow much in her part of Japan. Only a few centimeters a year. The storm last night had come out of nowhere, and dumped more snow on the countryside than she had probably ever seen in her life._

"_Raito, come inside, you'll freeze out there!" he called weakly, knowing from the look she shot at him that his pleas were useless. _

_And lo and behold she shook her head stubbornly and pranced off even further. _

"_No way, you come out here!" L groaned internally from his spot in the doorway. He hated cold weather. The wet-cold sunk deep into his bones and took a good half hour of hot chocolate by the fire to fully dispel. And for that period of time his reasoning ability dropped by at least eleven percent._

_But who was he to deny her requests? Huffing childishly he grabbed his thick jacket, as well as Raito's that she had neglected to put on in her excitement at seeing to snow. He then proceeded to shove his bare feet into what he not so lovingly referred to as 'those damn snow boots'._

_Trudging through the good foot of evil white powder, L threw Raito's jacket towards her. "At least put on a coat" he tried to order, but it just came out sounding like a plea. _

_She smirked at his unhappy face, but slipped the jacket on anyway. " I don't understand why you hate it so much" she complained gazing off into the surrounding forest "I think it's beautiful. _

_He mumbled his petty reasons, but she didn't appear to have heard. She tipped her face back and received a particularly large snowflake. Grinning impishly at him she breathed dreamily "It tastes like sky" _

_The joy in her brown eyes took his breath away.._

His heart lurched painfully, and he thought for a moment that he'd be sick.

"Niri!" he snapped, a distressed sort of panic rising in his voice "Don't do that!"

She jumped and stared at him, startled and perhaps a bit frightened at his tone. "But why" she asked confused.

'_Because, because you look so much like her it hurts'_

"Because" he answered pathetically "there are countless harmful toxins in the snow, it will make you ill"

Turning away from his daughter, it was all that L to restrain himself from running to the car and drive away leaving this small person who had her eyes behind.

Running was all he seemed capable of doing these days.

A/N: and yet again I have started ANOTHER multi-chapter fic before finishing, let alone updating my others. I'm a bad person.

Well, as I hope was obvious, this is a Genderswap L/Raito AU. Normally I'm not so big on these type of stories, but I've read a few decent ones, and this plot was planted in my brain, and I'm actually pretty happy with it so far.

I named the kid Niri mainly just because it fits in with my picture of her. Then I looked up the name meaning and it's apparently a Hebrew name that means 'My Burning Light' and it just made it that much more perfect.

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! (and point out any mistakes)

Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

Wammy House had only two official holidays a year. A month off during the summer and the two weeks before and after Christmas. During that time, students were encouraged to leave the establishment to spend time with whomever they still had contact with in the outside world.

Every vacation so far had been left with a few students who either have no place to go, or whose families are too busy to take them. But apparently this time was different. Every single one of Wammy House's wards had packed up and gone to spend the 'most wonderful time of the year' elsewhere.

Normally the prospect of not having to put up with the forty or so children running rampant around his home would have absolutely thrilled L, but not so this time, Because the fact that there were no children meant that the entire staff could also leave the premises. And it seemed that included Mr. Quillish Wammy himself.

Which left L all by his lonesome, the sole caretaker of Wammy's newest resident.

Crushing Quillish's note in his white-knuckled fist, L neatly contained his mini panic-attack from the child at his side. Up until this point he had counted on his mentor to be there for him. He had pictured the kindly old man being the one to provide the necessary care for Niri while she was in the country. Quillish would, as he always had, do all the dirty work while L hovered in the background, present, but never engaging.

And was he really so wrong in assuming so? After all, Quillish had practically made a hobby of raising children. L himself was a tribute to his endeavors in parenting.

And he had turned out halfway decent, hadn't he?

After all, since Quillish had raised L, Niri was his granddaughter in all but name, lack of shared blood be damned. The man had spent more time with L's daughter than L had. He had been the one to send the child support cheques, the one to fly to Japan on her first day of school when L had been tied up with a case, he was the one who actually knew how to deal with a child.

And now he had gone and abandoned L to a week of what was now to be sure chaos.

L knew he was being harsh on his beloved father figure, but it was all just much too convenient. The suddenly empty orphanage, the old mans last minute desire to spend time with his real family instead of preventing L from spiraling into an early mental breakdown, and the Yagami's sudden family crisis. It all tied together so neatly, and resulted in the conclusion that L should spend a week alone with the six year old daughter he barley knew.

He was beginning to suspect that Quillish was in cahoots with Sayu Yagami. Both had been hinting multiple times over the past few years that L needed to spend more time with his daughter, but up until now he had found halfway legitimate excuses to stay away.

But they had finally beaten him, damn them.

Kicking the heavy oak door closed, L led the child into the main hall of the mansion. L paused for a moment to savour the sensation of coming home. He had been out for five hours at the most, but traveling as much as he does, L had long since learned to appreciate every moment he had in the one place he truly felt safe.

He had already shrugged off his damp jacket and dumped it on the floor alongside his (stupidstupid) snow boots before he remembered that, oh yeah, the entire staff had been given the week off, and that included the housekeepers. L stood staring despairingly at the now slushy front hall before deciding that it could wait until, well…it could wait until later.

For now he needed to decide what to do next. Truthfully, he hadn't really planned beyond driving the kid home. Figuring that Wammy would take over from there and feed her cookies and tell her stories of the 'good old days' and other such grandfatherly things. Not that L would know, he'd never had a grandfather.

Or a father for that matter, at least not that he remembered. And even though Wammy had been good to him, their relationship had always been shadowed by business, just enough so that L would never have any qualms with putting his job before the man.

Which brought him back to the matter at hand. What was he supposed to do? For all of his immeasurable intellect, L found that his mind had gone completely and utterly blank.

So he fully shoved Lawliet aside and went into what Raito had dubbed his 'L Autopilot' Let's start with the basics, shall we, did the child immediately need anything?

She had likely not had a full meal in approximately fourteen hours, given the twelve hours it took to fly from Japan to England, as well as the travel between and waiting time. The airline would have supplied hydration in some form every hour and a half or so throughout the flight, and even though she'd been on the ground for a good hour, she shouldn't need a drink quite yet. But airplane food does not level par with the standards for the physical excellence of a growing child, so even though she would not likely feel hunger anytime soon, her body needed the sufficient nutrients provided by a square meal.

And there was the need to relieve her bodily wastes. She showed no outward signs of discomfort, no telltale fidgeting or distracted expression. But if she had indeed consumed his predicted amount of liquid over the duration of the trip, her bladder should need release. Though there were facilities onboard the aircraft (Boeing 777 models had two sets of lavatories available for the economy class cabin, at the front and the rear) but the toilets flush was loud and apparently frightening to small children, so there was a chance that she would have avoided using them unless it was an emergency.

She would likely also be tired. The time was currently 3:04:28 pm, so given the eight-hour time difference, it would be after eleven o'clock and she should be feeling jetlagged. L had trained himself to sleep while flying long distances, but he knew that most of the general public found the sound of the engine and sensation of flying to hinder the ability to slumber, so she may not have slept. It all depended on how comfortable the child felt surrounded by strangers, and her ability to block out her surroundings. The average adult requires between seven and nine continuous hours a day for an adult and nine to ten hours for a child. There was a less than ten percent chance that Niri had gotten that much.

Judging from her appearance that would be the first priority, L decided. His analysis had taken approximately five seconds, and in that short time frame Niri's face had cracked open into a massive yawn that tensed her whole body. And now that he was looking critically, her eyes were squinted blearily, and she had been noticeably quieter and withdrawn during the second half of the forty-five minute drive.

He would take her to the bathroom first, he decided. So she could use the toilet before he showed her her room.

Having a plan of action made the sick feeling in his stomach lessen somewhat. As Niri followed him quietly to the upper floors of the house, L conducted a half-hearted tour, pointing out such important landmarks as the kitchen, Roger's office, the playroom, and etcetera. The mansion was huge after all, and though L knew its every nook and cranny, he realized that most new arrivals found its labyrinth muddling.

The orphanage-turned-school was built around a sprawling Victorian era mansion that Wammy had bought with the payments from his first internationally successful invention. The original house was where the main living space was, while the numerous additions served as classrooms. Most of the outbuildings had been added in the seventeen years since L had 'graduated' at the age of fifteen.

L's room was on the top floor of the main building, a wing where students were forbidden to go. Wammy's room and office were there also, along with Roger's quarters and a communal bathroom. The rest of the space was comprised of empty rooms, one of which would serve as Niri's temporary home.

L left the child in the washroom and went to his own quarters down the hall to check on his system. A new lead in the SanFran Mafia Killings, one of the minor cases he was currently working on, had opened up, and soon L was deeply immersed in his work. When he finally looked up at the time he found that he had been at it for nearly three hours straight.

Standing quickly he dashed down the hall to the room he had assigned to Niri. He mentally slapped himself. It was only the first day and already he had forgotten his charge. Wincing at his carelessness, L opened the door and peered inside.

She lay on the bed sleeping, but for some unknown reason she hadn't climbed under the covers. Instead she sprawled on top of the bed surrounded by stuffed toys. Her small round limbs were splayed haphazardly making her look like a rag doll. Her chest rose and fell steadily in slumber, and as he watched a quiet puffy snort escaped her sinuses.

L flinched. It was the same. The same unladylike noise for which he teased Raito endlessly. How could it be? How could she be so agonizingly similar to the mother she had never met?

_The early morning sun flooded into the bedroom, washing over her sprawled form and lighting up the auburn tints in her hair. Her naturally tanned skin reflected gold against the stark white of her-no his cotton shirt._

_She had taken to wearing his clothes when the baby began to show. She would never admit it out loud, but buying maternity clothes made her feel like she was loosing some sort of absurd battle of wills with the life cycle. Now that she was nearing the third trimester, even his baggy tops were fitting a bit snug._

_He rolled to face her completely. When Raito had moved in with him, she brought with her a very strict set of rules regarding his bedtime. If he expected her to sleep in his bed, L had to earn it. And earning it meant at the minimum, four hours in bed each night._

_And no laptop. OR cell phone, iPod, walky-talky, or cake. _

_L had kicked up the reasonable amount of fuss. He didn't need four hours of sleep every night. While he was lying there idle, any number of heinous crimes could need his attention. It was boring, and what if he got hungry? _

_But when all was said and done, L, the greatest detective in the world, had a curfew._

_But he didn't mind really. The time spent there with his sleeping wife was peaceful, and it gave him time to think uninterrupted. L loved Raito to death, he really did, but married life was still a little scary for him. He was unused to being with someone who knew his secrets all day every day. These quite hours provided an escape that L never would have guessed he needed. _

_So during the hours when he had no work, and no wife to take up his attention, L thought. Right now his mind was full of the looming event that was the birth of their child._

_It was all that L had been able to think about lately. It had been hindering his ability to solve cases as of late, and he had also been sleeping badly, even for him. _

_It was not that L wasn't excited. On the contrary every time he looked at the growing curve that was Raito's abdomen, the thrill of anticipation hit him, as fresh as it had the day she told him. _

_But he was also terrified out of his mind. Letting Raito get through his social barrier and close enough to form a bond with him had been hard enough. And now, hardly even a year since there marriage and he was preparing to make another addition to his growing list of 'people-it-would-hurt-to-see-die'._

_He supposed it was a bit morbid that that was how he kept track of his interpersonal relationships, but in his line of work, that was always what decided the difference between 'friends' and the general public._

_And since meeting Raito, that number had increased exponentially. At first it had just been Quillish, and perhaps Roger. Not even his heirs had made the list. Then he had met Raito. Chalk one up._

_And along had come Raito's family. Soichirou Yagami, a truly good person in a world full of imperfection. Even Raito, who L would sacrifice the rest of the list for in a heartbeat didn't measure up to the pure goodness of her father's heart. And Sachiko, caring mother, doting wife, the ideal Japanese woman. Not the brightest character, but she was kind to a flaw, and damn, did she make a good strawberry shortcake. And Sayu, the poster child for adorable little sister, she idolized Raito. And though she too wasn't academically up to his virtually unreachable expectations, she was a surprisingly wise person with an incredible knack for sticking her nose where it doesn't belong._

_Only in L's eyes was that a good quality._

_L had also grown fond of the others he had met during his time in Japan. Goofy Matsuda, gentle giant Mogi, forever exasperated Aizawa. They had all earned his grudging respect._

_But the tiny not-yet-person forming in Raito's womb was on a whole other level, even from Raito. The thing that started out as nothing more than the simplest form-a bundle of nerves. That thing was him. It was him and Raito all rolled together and given individuality. It was the only blood relative that he would have come in contact with in his twenty five years, since his biological 'mother' had dumped him at the steps of a London nunnery just hours after his birth._

_It was strange to think that in just months the lump between his wife's hips would be a living, breathing, wailing person with its own thoughts and emotions. So incredibly strange that he took a moment to marvel at the complex miracle that was the human body._

_Raito shifted towards him in her sleep, unconsciously turning her face away from the sunlight streaming through the curtains. Settling again, she breathed out heavily, the sigh ending in a dainty little snore._

_L smiled tenderly._

He closed the door softly and slouched slowly back to his empty room.

A/N: Chapter 2!

He's trying, he really is. But it'll take some getting used to for our poor angsty detective.

Did anyone catch last chapter, how I gave L the alias Holmes? I thought it was clever….a little…..ok maybe not. Whatever!

I hope my 'L Autopilot' sounded convincing enough; it's hard to try to think like a super genius!

Oh and, can someone PLEASE inform me how to do page breaks? I'd be very very grateful!


	3. Chapter 3

Quillish Wammy had bought Wammy House on a whim. He had been young and riding the high that comes from years of grueling work paying off and coming together just as one had imagined. He had fallen in love the moment he had seen the beautiful property, though the mansion itself, nearly a small castle really, had long since fallen into ruin.

For the next decade, restoring the place was Quillish's obsession. Even after marrying his childhood sweetheart and the purchase of another property across town, his favourite place in the world to be was working on the massive structure. But after just under seven years, the house was completely finished, and Quillish was left without a project.

An inventor through and through, Quillish absolutely hated not having something to do in his spare time. It was several years later during an evening at the pub with his good friend Roger Ruvie that it had come to him.

And so Wammy House, Orphanage, was born.

For the first fifteen years of it's existence, Wammy House had simply been that, an orphanage. They had supplied their charges with a decent education, making sure they would be able to contribute to society after leaving the establishment, teaching them the basics, Arithmetic, English, History, the likes. But it was when Quillish met a very special orphan, the direction of his Orphanage changed.

Quillish had been perusing other orphanages, something that he liked to do on his day offs. Occasionally he would find an establishment that was overcrowded or on the brink of being shut down, and he would return to Wammy's with a new child or two.

He had found L Lawliet at a church-run care center in the Borough of South Ribble. And at first the five year old had frightened him with the sheer intelligence that he possessed.

In the eyes of society, Quillish Wammy is a genius. He had above the required IQ of 140, and the test results to prove it. He was fluent in a dozen languages, including two dead languages. He could take apart a jet engine, make improvements, and put it all back together, then pilot the plane to any country he desired. He had the ability to do advanced statistics in his head without pausing in his cricket game.

But Quillish's intelligence was based on memorization. He loved repetition and pattern because he was good at it, but it put limits on how far his knowledge could expand. These principals did not bind L's incredible mind. His thought process was so complex and incomparable to that of an average person, that the nuns mistook his genius as Autism, and therefore left him alone, believing that no one would ever adopt such a simple little boy. When he saw their mistake, Wammy immediately spirited him away.

Upon arrival a Wammy's, L was placed in the same classes as all the other students. But not long after he began failing to attend on a regular basis. Eventually he didn't even bother to show up at all; instead he found sanctuary in the houses enormous library. After confronting the boy and concluding that he was simply too smart for the current curriculum, Wammy began tutoring L in private, one on one sessions.

The special classes were self-directed, and under that basis L thrived. He had taught himself fifteen languages by the time he turned fourteen with only occasional help from Quillish. He spent nearly all his time in the library, reading through Quillish's extensive collection at an astonishing rate, rarely interacting with anyone other than Quillish and Roger.

Under Quillish, L learned a variety of useful, and unusual skills, advanced lessons such as sign language, semaphore, basic computing, criminal theory and counter fraud, interrogation techniques, basic sniping and many others.

One thing however, that L had not bothered with during his education at Wammy's, was Home Ec.

Although an avid enjoyer of quality cooking, he had never been interested in actually learning how to put it together. And thanks to Quillish's culinary expertise, never once had he had to. Until now, he mused.

Standing in Wammy House's spacious kitchen, L scratched behind his ear, deep in thought.

It was hard to believe that in this giant, cavernous fridge, there was not one thing that L felt confident he wouldn't totally ruin. It seemed that everything needed to be baked, boiled, toasted or poached. The cupboards were also mysteriously empty.

Niri was sitting at the room's island rubbing sleep out of her eyes. She had woken up hungry, and of course, expected her apparently incompetent father to make her breakfast.

What did children even like for breakfast? L almost always skipped the meal because he normally stayed up all night working, and working meant that he had also been consuming his typically copious amount of sugar and caffeine in order to stay awake. Therefore he never desired food at the designated 'breakfast hour'.

Quillish's preferred extravagant western dishes for his morning meal, such things as fancy omelets or French toast. No question of that happening. Raito had often eaten a bagel or plain toast with eggs. L thought he might be able to handle toast, but he had no idea were to even begin looking for the toaster, and there was no way he was even touching the eggs. He found them repulsive unless hidden in cake batter.

Speaking of cake, a pale pink box on the top shelf of the fridge suddenly caught his eye. L recognized from the silver cursive on the side that is was from his favourite bakery in the Winchester area. Now that he thought of it, the fridge was stalked with sweets. It always was. At the rate that L consumed sugar, Quillish had gotten in the habit of simply going to the bakery once every week and buying enough to last until the next trip.

Well, kids liked sugary food right? Of course they did! All of his problems were solved!

He pushed the fridge door open all the way and motioned Niri towards the goodies. "You can eat these, take as much as you want."

Her eyes widened comically when she saw the sweet horde. "Really?" she gasped, "b-but it's cake! I can't have cake for breakfast!"

"I don't see why not" L replied, already making his way to the door, mind jumping ahead to the cases waiting back in his room.

"'Cause" her voice was uncertain now "Grandma says no treats before lunch"

L sighed inwardly "but it's okay today" he explained distractedly.

"Why?"

"Because you're in England" he lied "English people always eat cake for breakfast". Well, crumpets and waffles were close enough to cake, especially with whipped cream and strawberries…..yum…..that sounded good.

And with that incredibly intelligent thought, L made his long-awaited escape from the room.

Back in the blissfully quiet sanctuary that was his bedroom/office/cave, L once again immersed himself in his work.

At exactly twelve noon, two messages arrived in his inbox, and L knew whom they were from without even having to check. When Mello and Near had left the orphanage and went on their own ways, L had let them go with only one requirement. On the twentieth day of each month, at twelve pm sharp (England time) they were to send L an update detailing their personal status.

He read Near's email first. As was typical of the boy, it stuck to the bare minimum of what L requested. Location, personal health, a case summary, current company, and his activities for the past month.

L had given both of his successors the option of taking over one of his numerable aliases. Not Deneuve or Coil, L needed to keep those options for himself, but he allowed them to choose any other from his extensive collection of personas.

Near had browsed through L's notes on each character. Taking to note their pre-existing reputations, reading through their accomplishments, he spent eight hours straight carefully considering each one, before choosing to take the identity known as Essie Driskoll.

The original Essie Driskoll had actually been an acquaintance of L's from early on in his career. He had spent some time in Wales with her and her sister, Ginna. The two had been private detectives with a rather unorthodox set of methods. It was during the months he spent with them that L had learned his favourite espionage techniques, and become acquainted with the idea of working with criminals in order to catch other criminals.

As an interesting side note, it was also to Ginna, the younger sister that he had lost his virginity. Both women were quite a lot older then he who, at sixteen, and having a naturally inquiring mind, had been experiencing a certain amount of curiosity. The sisters had thought his eager questions 'simply adorable', and had been more than willing to show him the ropes.

The reason Near had chosen this particular alias to take as his own was quite simple. After Essie and Ginna had been killed in and unfortunate 'accident', L had taken their aliases. But out of respect, hadn't done much to further their peculiar legacies. So the Driskoll sisters had fallen off the world's radar. That was why Near had chosen to fill Essie's shoes. With her, he would be able to build up a reputation that was mostly his own, and he would not be tied down by his predecessor's renown.

Mello on the other hand, had quickly skimmed the very same files, before throwing them down and parading off, boasting that he "didn't need L's help in this", that he'd "make his own fucking name".

His updates always held a more personal flavour. That was just how Mello was. Everything about the boy-now officially a man L supposed, as he had had turned twenty-seven days ago- was very personal.

When he left Wammy's, Mello had disappeared for a few months, dragging his best friend Matt along with him. He hadn't contacted anyone in that timeframe, and they had all assumed that their hold on the rambunctious youth had finally slipped. But after half a year of no word, Mello had suddenly sent the fist of his monthly emails to L, explaining that he and Matt were fine, and that they had been traveling to world, but were back on track, and ready to take the justice system by storm.

And that he did. With Matt as his reluctant sidekick, Mello whirled back into L's life as not a successor, but as unexpected competition. It seemed that somewhere in his travels, Mello had matured and dropped his driving obsession of beating Near. No longer was he completely fixated on succeeding L, he had moved on to bigger dreams, of taking his place as most respected detective in the world. L had been thoroughly shocked, but at the same time full of a strange sort of pride.

Mello and Matt had been working from Russia for the past year, but they had decided to spend the winter in the Greek islands.

That was how Mello tended to function. As apposed to Near, who had recently spent a year straight locked away in an arctic compound in the northern most part of Norway in order to shut down a terrorist cell, Mello's first priority was personal comfort. It was just like him to run off to a tropical island because his disliked the Russia's frigid weather.

L smiled softly to himself as he read through Mello's unnecessarily detailed description of the crappy service at the hotel they were staying in. where Near stuck to the bare minimum, Mello went completely overboard. They were such complete opposites it was comical. It was the reason they got under each other's skin so easily.

L wondered when had he begun to think of heirs so fondly. It must have been after Raito had discovered that she was pregnant. They had flown to England almost right away to share their news with the residents at Wammy's. L chuckled as he remembered Mello and Nears reaction to the information…

_Ladies and Gentlemen we are beginning the decent into the London area. The current weather is overcast, with an outside temperature of 3 degrees Celsius, and a wind-chill of –2. The local time is 5:43 pm. I thank you on the behalf of the entire crew and staff of British airlines for flying with us today, and we hope to see you in the future…. Shinshi shukujo… _

_L leaned forward and one-handedly flipped his tray table forward and twisted the knob with practiced ease. He simultaneously shoved his laptop into its bag and nudged it under the seat in front of him. The shuffling of the other passengers preparing for landing filled the cabin. _

_He turned to his wife in the seat next to him and noticed that she had yet to straighten her seatback. "Raito" L said softly, "we are going to be landing soon. _

_Raito jumped as if startled out of a trance. For the past half hour of the flight she had been gazing absently out the window at the thick layer of fog that blanketed the United Kingdom. Blinking back into focus, the young woman nodded and pulled her seat up into the correct position. _

_L took a moment to study his wife. She looked slightly haggard, her normally perfect hair was messier then usual, and the bags under her eyes were starting to resemble his own. Reaching out, L took her hand in his._

_Her eyes met his, and she smiled gratefully at him. She had been rather stressed about this trip. She had only met L's heirs once before, at the small wedding ceremony that had been held on Wammy House's picturesque property the previous year. Because of L's need to protect his identity, there had only been a few select guests invited who weren't from Wammy's. Raito's parents and sister, along with the taskforce from Japan. _

_Mello and Near had been suspicious at first, and a little (or a lot on Mello's part) jealous of her. She was a stranger after all, and they had had mistrust of anyone who was from the 'outside' drilled into their brains since they arrived at the orphanage. _

_It didn't help that she was smarter then they were, and stealing what already limited attention they received from their hero, L. _

_And now they came baring the news of yet another form of competition. Or at least, that's what the over-zealous boys would view L's unborn child as. _

_It was nonsense of course. L had no intention whatsoever of naming this baby his heir, not to the L name, not to its father's legacy, that was not the life he wanted for his and Raito's child. _

_He hadn't really talked about it with Raito, but L had made up his mind on the matter. The world he lived in, full of crime and mystery, was not where his baby would grow up. He would do everything in his power to make certain that the kid would have as normal life as possible. He just wasn't quite sure how he'd get around to that yet._

_He still had eight months to work that out though. In the meantime he had two very eccentric successors to appease._

_As expected, quite the greeting party met them at the front gates and an hour and forty-five minutes later. It wasn't often that the great and elusive L dropped by for a social call. It appeared that either the day's classes had been canceled, or the entire student body had skipped class to catch a glimpse of their idol and his beautiful wife._

_ After a bit of a struggle, Roger managed to push his way to the front of the crowd in time to open the door of Qillish's Rolls Royce. They were met with no resistance, however on the way back into the building. The students parted as L walked past, fascinated, but not desiring actual contact with the man. _

_ They made their collective way to Quillish's study in order to tell Roger and Quillish in private, before finding the children. But they were met with quite the surprise when, in the middle of their announcement, a blur of blond hair and black denim shot out from behind one of the sofas yelling in outrage. _

_ Mello was just as insecure at the prospect of L's biological child as he had expected. And it appeared that he was taking surveillance classes. _

_A moment later, Near and Matt, their location having been revealed by their companion, popped out from behind the couch as well. It had taken a good twenty minutes to assure Mello that he wasn't being replaced, that he was still in the running for the L title, and that yes, L was absolutely sure that he wasn't going to be replaced by 'some damn brat' who hadn't even been born yet. _

_ After that, L and Raito had a very pleasant time catching up with Quillish and Roger. They stayed at Wammy's for three days before traveling to L's house to spend the rest of their time in England alone. But before they left, L made sure he spent some quality time with each of his potential successors. It was Raito's idea, she thought he should make an effort to get to know them a little better, and, she reminded him, it would be good for his to get used to kids. _

_ In the end, L was glad that he had. Mello, Near, Matt, and all the other children at Wammy's were truly brilliant kids. And despite their young ages, L found himself impressed by the conversations they held. He even went to some of the classes to observe their progress. _

_ As he was dragged around on a tour of the playroom by one of the youngest members of the school, a four year-old called Penny, he realized that he was actually enjoying the interaction._

L was brought back from his reminiscing by the sound of soft footfalls. It was four o'clock he realized, and he hadn't heard from Niri in hours. Now she stood in his doorway with a peculiar look on her face. "My tummy hurts" she whimpered.

L knew what was going to happen a split second before it did, and he looked around desperately for something to catch it in, but there was nothing he could do but watch as the little girl stood and vomited all over his floor.

The half-digested cake splattered all over the wall was mocking him, he was sure of it.

A/N: super long chapter eh? 3000+ words.

Believe me, give the average kid permission to eat all the junk food they want, and they WILL eat until they puke. I speak from experience.

So we got to see what Mello and Near are up to! In this world, Raito was never Kira, so this is what their lives would have been if L hadn't died pre-maturely.

One thing that I previously didn't like about genderswap L/Raito fics is that I thought that it was a bit homophobic. My mind has changed since then however, because of reading several well-written ones, but I still prefer it when authors stick with the original genders. (I'm a hypocrite, I know) the reason I wrote Raito as a girl was because I absolutely cannot stand Mpreg. I just think it's super weird. The reason I switched Raito not L is because a) I'm sure Raito would have functioned better in the event of L's death and b) Raito is easier for me to picture as a girl both physically and mentally.

If anyone is interested in reading the amazing fic that inspired me to write a genderswap, it's called Inner Glow written by Danielle Anderson = .net/s/3869707/1/


	4. Chapter 4

Despite all appearances he put up to the general public, the detective L was actually heavily dependent on others. He sat in his solitary throne above a giant support network that encompassed the entire globe.

In the centre of the action sat his closest confidant and the man who raised, Quillish Wammy. Quillish was his public face, his mouthpiece to the world. Without him, L would have been long since cut of from the rest of humanity.

Surrounding Qillish, in a tightly configured circle, stood his most trusted acquaintances. It was a very small group; comprised mostly of people he knew from Wammy's, Roger and a few of the other professors that called the orphanage home, and the top runners for his position, the most brilliant of the children, as well as the few colleagues whom he had ever graced with his physical presence.

From there, it was a rather large gap to the next layer. The various government agencies and world leaders whom L worked with on a daily basis. There were severe trust issues within this group, as L knew everything about each and every member of these parties, and not a single one of them had even laid eyes on the man. They were understandably weary of the faceless detective.

Crouched, like a hungry spider on his web of allies, L ruled his domain unchallenged. But that didn't mean that he was not able to swallow his pride and admit when he needed help.

He tapped his foot against the desk leg nervously as he waited for someone to pick up. On the forth ring his patience was rewarded.

"_Hello?"_

"Z, it's me. I need your help."

"…" L was met with the expected sound of silence as the woman on the other end of the line processed the words. In the background, he could hear the muffled laughter of children, and the bark of a dog.

"_L?" _she finally replied, _"You know I don't want to be involved anymore, I told you I-"_

" I know Z" he said tiredly, "And I apologize, but you know I wouldn't call unless it was important, I really need you to come over."

"…" Another pause, _"are you alright L?" _the voice asked, _"Are you in trouble? Where's Quillish?"_

"No I'm not in trouble, though I suppose that depends on your definition of trouble, I'm not in any danger at least."

"_So if I come over right now, I will be able to leave in one piece, later today, and go back home without having to fear for my life, of the lives of my family?"_

"As far as I can tell yes"

A heavy sigh from the other end. _"Alright, I'll be there in fifteen minutes, I just have to drop the kids off at my sister-in-law's."_

"Thank you Z"

"_I told you L, it's not Z anymore. I've left that life behind."_

"Oh, right…sorry"

"_Is that two apologies in one conversation? Jeez you must really need my help!"_

"See you in a few minutes."

_"Yeah, see you." _

L snapped his cell phone shut and shoved it back into his pocket. Picking up the bucket of bleach and water, he vigorously mopped the floor. He had been lucky, another foot further and Niri would have gotten the rug.

The poor girl in question was currently seated miserably in the bathtub, clutching an old ice-cream bucket to her chest. It had been an awkward struggle to get her there, she had been sobbing apologies the entire time, even as she continued to regurgitate on herself. The fact that she was slipping in her own vomit the entire walk to the bathroom had made the going incredibly difficult.

Having succeeded in plunking the girl down under the running water, fully clothed (they would need a proper washing anyway) L was faced with the task of clearing the wreckage before his support-team of one arrived.

So far it had taken a copious amount of paper towel and several gallons of bleach, but he was almost there.

By the time the beautiful sound of an automobile pulling into the gravel drive reached his ears; L was finishing up wiping his tainted equipment down with a chemical-drenched rag. He hurried down to open the door, shouting to Niri that he'd be right back.

Zoë Harris-Brant, formerly known simply as Z, was the last surviving member of the first generation of Ls.

She was a small woman with a bushy mane of bright orange hair. She had a classic Irish appearance, complete with jade green eyes and a splattering of freckles on every square inch of pale skin. L had never been so glad to see anyone in his life.

L had had closer relation with he tragic first generation of Wammy geniuses then with any other that came after. It had been mostly due to the fact that they were barley younger than him, and also, he had more time on his hands to spend making friends back in those days.

There had been five of them in the beginning. A, B, X, Y and Z. his first prospective heirs, the unfortunate children.

A had snapped first. He had been the brightest, and first of the bunch. Alec Lehmann, at just seventeen years of age, killed himself because he could no longer take the pressure of living in L's shadow.

His suicide had deeply impacted the rest of them, including L. but no one was affected more than B, the younger best friend.

The events following A's suicide were infamous. B had left Wammy's without warning, and vanished. Then three years later, the Los Angeles murders began.

Thankfully, the other three had dealt with the blow differently. But one by one, they left the orphanage, no longer interested in L's title, not after seeing what it had done to their friends.

Y went first; the impulsive young man took back his given name and joined the United Nations as a peace missionary. Eight months later, eighteen year old Oliver Young lay dead in a Central-African canyon.

Next to leave was X. He settled into a seemingly safer profession as a high-up government official in his birth country, France. But not two years later, Minister of Justice, Alexandre Cabbell was assassinated at the young age of twenty-one. If he had lived, surly he would have one day lead the country as President.

So with three of her companions dead, and the other just as well as, Z was left very much alone. At first, she had stayed at Wammy's teaching Advanced Forensic Science to the new arrivals, but as time passed, Z found being there increasingly unbearable. Eventually she moved out and married a young Professor from the University of Winchester, and took a job there as well.

Following the birth of her first son, Z had cut all ties to Wammy's and officially renounced her alias, telling L that she wanted to live out the rest of her life as normally as possible.

And for years L had respected that, fully intending never to contact the woman again, but with Quillish away, L had no one else to turn to. As a mother of three boys under the age of ten, Zoë would know what to do.

He explained the situation as he showed her up the stairs. Zoë, it seemed, still had some amount of contact with Roger because she knew that L had a daughter, and that the daughter had no mother.

When they got to the bathroom, Niri was in the same position as he had left her, and the tub was close to overflowing. Zoë quickly twisted the knob off, before addressing L.

"Does she speak English?"

"No, none. This is her first time out of Japan."

So it was in heavily accented Japanese that she bent down and said to Niri, "Hello sweetie, my name is Zoë. I'm a friend of your dad's and I'm going to help you get cleaned up, K?"

Shyly, Niri nodded and Zoë proceeded to pull off the girl's soiled clothing. All the while chattering about random things. L felt unnecessary, so he backed out of the room to wait in the hall.

A few minutes later the two females emerged, Niri was wrapped in a thick fluffy towel, and still clutching the ice-cream tub. " I think she's good now" Zoë told L, "If it was from the sugar, one time will have been enough to clear it out. I guess she didn't inherit you stomach of steel"

L looked away. Raito had always had a low tolerance for sugary food.

"Come on love," Zoë put an arm around his daughter and leading her gently to the bedroom. "Lets get some clean clothes on, and then I'll make you some plain rice, doesn't that sound good?"

Twenty minutes later, a pajama-clad Niri sat wrapped up on the couch watching a Japanese animated movie that Zoë had found in the House's bottomless collection, and tentatively picking at a bowl of white rice. Zoë pulled L to the side to talk privately.

"She's beautiful L," she said softly. "You have a really sweet daughter."

L nodded mutely, unsure of how to respond.

His companion continued, "I can tell this is all very hard for you L, but you should seriously know better than to let a child her age have free reign over a mountain of sweets. She didn't know that this would happen."

"I know," he whispered guiltily. "I wasn't thinking straight, it's just so…"

He trailed off, not able to put to words how he felt.

Zoë gazed back, sympathy clear in her green eyes. L turned away. He couldn't stand their pity. He'd seen it in everyone's eyes after Raito had died. He just wanted them all to stop feeling sorry and let him forget.

"This isn't easy for her either you know, think about it. She's never been this far away from home before. And on top of that, I bet she really wants to get to know you, but is too afraid to say anything. Think about it L, she'd only six, you have to act like the adult here, for once in your life."

L flinched. "Don't lecture me Z…Zoë, I know that I have been a lousy father, but I have no idea where to even start."

"Start with the little things then. Ask her about anything, her friends, school, her favourite colour, things that she doesn't have to think about to answer. Then maybe someday you will feel comfortable with telling her the things that she really wants to know."

"And what would that be?"

"Gosh I thought you were supposed to be some sort of genius L, she wants to know about you. Why you were never around, and about her mother. She needs to hear those things."

L fidgeted, eyes glued firmly to his curled toes. "I can't Z…I mean Zoë. Besides, she has her grandparents to talk to her about that."

"But she needs to hear it from you. And there are some things that only you can tell her. Like how you met her mother, stuff like that. She needs to know that you care about her. Here, take a look at this, it was in her room."

She held out a thin notebook. L turned the cover over and stared at the first page.

It was a child's drawing of a cat, done in bright cheerful crayon. "Turn the page."

The next was a flower, a pink one. But the picture on the page after that was a small group of three people. They were crudely drawn, as young children's art tends to be, but it was clear whom they were meant to represent.

The figure on the left had long brown hair and a giant pink grin slashing across her face. Raito. The long black line of her arm joined another, smaller one. A shorter figure with dark hair. Niri.

And on the other side, the tallest stickman yet, L, distinguished by the black scribble of hair atop the lopsided head. Floating above the three of them was a cluster of red hearts.

He stared numbly. There was a photo tucked between the pages. It was of Raito, heavily pregnant. It had been half way through month eight, he remembered, he had taken the photo. She was sitting on a bench in a park near her family's home.

_They had flown in late the night before. Raito wanted to be with her family when the baby came, and the Yagami's had been thrilled to have their daughter back home. L had known the moment they were greeted by his in-laws, and Raito tightly embraced her mother, that it was the right decision. His child would be born surrounded by loving faces._

_That morning, Sayu had dragged his wife off to their favourite spa for full body massages. Raito had tried to protest, all that pampering had never been her thing, but L had urged her to go spend some time with her sister, it would do wonders for the backaches that the late stages of pregnancy had been plaguing her with lately._

_ They were due to be finished any minute now. L had walked the short distance to the spa to meet them, and he loitered around in front of the buildings until they came out. _

_ L suggested that they have a bite to eat at the small café across the street, but Sayu had turned the invitation down with claims that she was meeting a friend to go shopping. But she urged them to go alone._

_ "Here" she younger Yagami sister said, shoving a small, pink digital camera into L's hands. "Take a few pictures of Rai-chan will you? The lighting is nice at this time of day, and Kaa-san and I want to start putting together a baby book." _

_With that Sayu strolled away, waving at them over her shoulder. "Have a nice time you two!"_

_Raito smiled after her sister and looped an arm through L's. The café was a quaint little western themed coffee shop. Cheerful yellow awnings hung over the small patio area. They had finished their meals before L remembered Sayu's request. _

"_I suppose I'll have to humor them then" he sighed, feigning annoyance. Raito quirked a smile at him. "Give them a break, they're just excited. Anyway, I think it's a good idea. It'll be nice to have a few pictures to remember this time with. It's just a shame that we can't take any together." _

"_Sorry, you'll just have to settle for the genuine item."_

"_You know that's not the point Ryuu." She said indignantly, naturally using his Japanese civilian alias. "It wouldn't kill you to have a few pictures around. Kaa-san and Tou-san are desperate to show their friends a picture of you, and they would never tell anyone who you are. " _

"_Actually it very well could kill me Raito, you know that." They had had this debate so many times now that the arguments flowed from their mouths like a habit. _

_The only photos of L that currently existed were all locked safely in the drawer of his desk at Wammy's. And there were only three of them. The one picture he relented to posing for at their wedding, one of him standing in front of Wammy's when he was seventeen, the five members of the first generation crouched at his feet, and the last one was black and white, taken just weeks after Quillish had found him. The five-year-old L in the picture stood beside a younger version of the inventor, clutching his hand in a white-knuckled grip. _

_ "Here," L said, "lean back and I'll take your photo."_

_ Raito settled into her chair and rested her hand on top of her swollen belly. "Smile!" L prompted. _

_ Raito smiled. With the autumn sun low in the sky, the golden rays played over her features, and Raito truly did glow._

_ L peeked at the preview image on the screen. He saw a woman who was both jubilant and nervous, but very much happy. "Sayu-chan was right, the lighting is very nice, Raito looks almost as beautiful in the picture as she does in real life." _

_ "Oh hush, you." Raito scoffed, but she wouldn't stop the grin from spreading across her face. "Don't shamelessly try to charm your way back into favour." _

_ "You wound me my love, what I say is one hundred percent the truth!" _

"She loves you L, despite everything, she really loves you. And I know that is you would just stop and look at her, you would see how very lucky you are to have that."

L's vision blurred and he felt the prickle of oncoming tears behind his eyes. "That woman in the photo, your wife L, the mother of your daughter, she would have wanted Niri to know you, she would have wanted you to be there for each other." He snapped the sketchbook shut and turned to go, unable to face the glaring truth of her words.

Zoë watched him walk away sadly. "I'll come back tomorrow with some groceries." She called after him. "But after that, you're on your own. I just hope, for both of your sakes, that you can work past your grief and live the life your wife would have wanted you to have."

A/N: and the aftermath! And someone speaks some sense.

Introducing my Wammy-kid OCs. Or, they're kind of half-OC I guess, as they are mentioned at some point in canon, but it never goes deeper than their titles.

So I hope the pattern is apparent by this point. The chapter is introduced, some plot development happens, then something happens that triggers a flashback for poor L. I hadn't originally planned for these last two chapters only describe one day, but that's how it turned out. I don't really know how long this story will end up being, as I write the chapters as they come to me. But the climax will probably we on Christmas, and will involve L flashing back to Raito's death.

And that's all I have to say about that.


End file.
